


It's the Little Things in Life

by wallmakerrelict



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Macro/Micro, Married Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallmakerrelict/pseuds/wallmakerrelict
Summary: Keith and Shiro were hoping to enjoy a relaxing camping vacation away from their duties aboard the Atlas, until the local wildlife shrinks Shiro down to six inches tall. Now they have to make the most of the remainder of their trip. (They have a lot of sex.)
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 142





	It's the Little Things in Life

“I’m sorry, Keith, but we’re already halfway to the rendezvous point,” said Matt through the com, leaning very close to the microphone in order to be heard over Coran’s indignant shouting in the background. “If we turn around to come back for you we’ll definitely miss the handoff, and the aid package to sector nineteen could be delayed by up to a phoeb. And since your situation isn’t exactly an _emergency_ …” 

Keith sighed. “No, don’t apologize. Atlas’s mission is more important. Just swing back around as soon as you can.” 

“It’ll be five quintants, tops,” Matt promised. Then his concerned expression curled into a mischievous one. “Where’s the captain right now? Can I see him?” 

Keith peeked past the screen on his wrist communicator to where Shiro was sitting cross-legged on a tree stump, and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Shiro’s eyes widened and he shook his head. 

“Not if you’re just going to make fun of him,” Keith replied, making Matt’s face fall. “See you in five quintants.” 

Just before he disconnected, Coran leaped into the foreground waving his arms and scolding, “I warned you! I warned y…” 

Keith closed the communicator, cutting Coran off before he could work himself into even more of a frenzy. Shiro crossed his arms, hunched miserably on his tree stump. The stump wasn’t large, but Shiro fit neatly in the center of it with room to spare. Even if he were to stop pouting and stand at his full height, he wouldn’t have measured more than six inches tall. 

To be fair, Coran had warned them. It had been years since he’d been shrunken while pursuing yalmors in the name of saving Voltron, and yet the blustery Altean still reminded his friends of the event so often that it had become a running joke among the former paladins. Maybe a little too much of a joke. Maybe that’s why neither of them had taken it seriously when Shiro stumbled across an angry-looking little creature with a thick domed shell in the underbrush, until it had sprayed Shiro with a cloud of dust that left him no taller than the grass underfoot. 

Keith knelt by the stump to put himself level with Shiro, and told him gently, “Coran said they can reverse it using Atlas’s power. At least, I think that’s what he said. But it’ll be…” 

“Almost a week,” Shiro interrupted sullenly. “Yeah, I heard. So much for our relaxing camping vacation.” 

“We’ll just have to make the best of it,” said Keith as Shiro scooted to the edge of the stump and began to clamber to the ground. Keith cupped his hands beneath him as a safety net, but Shiro made it down unassisted. Keith could barely see him through the tall grass; only the white puff of his hair stood above the greenery. “Do you, uh… how do you want to do this?” 

“What do you mean?” Shiro shouted up at him. 

“Our camp is a few miles back that way, and I don’t think you can walk that far.” 

Shiro was silent for a moment, then sagged as he said, “Yeah, you’re going to have to carry me.” 

As Keith parted the grass to find him, Shiro blushed and raised his elbows as if expecting to be scooped up under his armpits. But Keith just put his hand flat on the ground and waited for Shiro walk onto his palm before lifting him carefully to his shoulder. Shiro seemed to relax once situated up there, his feet braced on either side of Keith’s backpack strap. He held onto Keith’s ear for balance, which made Keith almost unbearably ticklish, but the comfort of the little hand gripping his skin was worth the occasional shiver it sent up his spine. 

Despite the unexpected events of the day, the walk back to camp was lovely. They’d chosen this planet for its pristine natural beauty: huge trees with bubble-like leaves bowed over the path Keith cut through the thick grass, and the pink sky reflected off the many lakes and streams that wound through the valley. Shiro settled into the crook of Keith’s neck and seemed to enjoy the ride. 

When they got back to camp, Keith had to work fast to get everything set up before darkness fell. Shiro sat nearby, apologizing and assuring Keith that he would help if he could. He even tried to drag their cooking kit out of Keith’s backpack, but the little gas stove was too heavy for him and finally he toppled backwards, an iron pot falling after to cover him. 

Keith lifted the pot off him and offered his pinky for Shiro to pull himself back to his feet. “Careful,” he said as Shiro dusted himself off. “You could really hurt yourself.” 

Shiro sulked until the smell of Keith’s cooking drew him back in, and they enjoyed a simple dinner as the sun went down. 

Luckily, Shiro’s pack had shrunk along with him, so he had a change of clothes and his sleeping bag to match his new temporary size. As they settled into the tent together, securing the flap behind them against the cooling night air, Keith curled up on his side so he could keep an eye on Shiro’s tiny form across the tent. He couldn’t help huffing a little frustrated sigh. Though he was determined to make the best of this situation, he couldn’t deny he’d been looking forward to zipping their sleeping bags together and spending a few restful nights snuggled up to his husband’s sturdy bulk. 

Shiro’s sleeping bag flopped back and forth as he rolled inside it, repositioning himself every couple of minutes with huffy little noises of discomfort. Keith murmured, “Are you cold?” The night was chilly, even inside the tent, and Shiro’s small frame surely couldn’t conserve heat like it usually would. 

“No,” said Shiro, seeming surprised to find Keith still awake. “I’m fine.” 

But Keith knew Shiro well enough to recognize when he was upset. With one arm wriggled free of his sleeping bag and a tilt of his head, Keith wordlessly invited Shiro in for a hug. 

Shiro climbed out of his sleeping bag and crossed the tent to press himself against the bridge of Keith’s nose. Keith put a gentle hand over him, holding him there in a strange kind of embrace. He still would have preferred Shiro at his usual size, but there was something charming about Shiro’s head resting on his cheek, a tiny hand pressed against his closed eyelid. 

“I’m sorry I ruined our vacation,” Shiro muttered ruefully. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Keith assured him. “We’re both still here, together, and no one is injured or dying which already makes this better than about ninety-eight percent of the war. And we can still do all the things we were planning.” 

“Not all the things we were planning,” Shiro grumbled. 

Keith smiled and moved his head by fractions of an inch, just enough to gently nuzzle Shiro’s belly with the tip of his nose. “Oh? What did you have in mind?” 

Shiro laughed and pushed off Keith face, staggering a little on the uneven surface of the sleeping bag. “You know…” 

“I mean…” said Keith, sliding out of his sleeping bag to sit upright in its bunched and pooled fabric. He moved as carefully as he could, but the padding of the sleeping bag made it like a bouncy castle for Shiro, who waved his arms wildly before falling on his butt. This time, when Keith helped him back to his feet, he curled a finger behind and traced down Shiro’s back until it rested just under the cleft of his ass. Even that gentle touch made Shiro stumble, but as soon as his feet were under him again he leaned back against Keith’s finger with a blush creeping across his face. 

Shiro shifted from side to side, nestling the curve of Keith’s finger deeper between his cheeks. “It’s, uh, not going to fit, you know,” he mumbled as his face went an even deeper shade of red. 

“I know that!” Keith laughed. Even his pinky finger was, proportional to Shiro, bigger than anything he would dare to force into an asshole. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to touch you, okay?” 

Shiro nodded, and continued to grind his ass against Keith’s finger. Keith brought his thumb around the other side, using the lightest pressure he could manage to massage tiny circles over the front of Shiro’s pants. Shiro shuddered, stuck pinched between fingers each as thick as his biceps, and bucked his hips involuntarily. 

Keith could feel the delicateness of Shiro’s frame moving in his hand. He would have to be so, so gentle, because a single careless touch could cause serious harm. It was almost scary how even a slight change of pressure could make Shiro stumble, how mere millimeters could spell the difference between pleasure and discomfort. Shiro was completely at Keith’s mercy. Keith wouldn’t be able to get carried away like he usually did when making love; he would have to remain in complete control the entire time. 

By the way Shiro’s pants were bulging, he didn’t mind the element of danger. He grabbed Keith’s finger - one not currently entrapping his groin - and held onto it with both hands as he licked it. The odd sensation of the tiny tongue gliding against his skin made the back of Keith’s head tingle, and he circled his thumb a little faster until he managed to make Shiro groan out loud. 

Shiro whimpered and almost fell when Keith drew his hand away, only to step eagerly forward when Keith reached to take off Shiro’s shirt. He plucked at it fruitlessly, his fingers too thick and clumsy to grasp the impossibly fine fabric, until his prodding knocked Shiro over backwards. With that gorgeous body spread-eagled under his hand, Keith nudged a finger under the hem and pushed the shirt up. 

As it passed Shiro’s collarbone to expose his chest, Shiro curled his toes and whimpered. 

“You okay?” said Keith, surprised to find his own voice so breathy and needy. He glanced down as he belatedly noticed that his pajama bottoms were straining against his erection, and growing damp with pre-come. 

Shiro hugged Keith’s finger to his chest, panting and shivering. “Y-you just grazed my nipple,” he stammered, “and I can feel the ridges on your fingerprint.” 

“Fuck…” Keith muttered. That shouldn’t have been as much of a turn-on as it was. 

Keith hovered his hand carefully, barely touching Shiro’s skin as he ran his finger up and down his bare torso. Shiro held his own shirt up to give him easier access. Keith could feel the bumps of Shiro’s abs and the firmness of his pecs, and Shiro writhed under the texture of his touch. 

While Keith played with his body, Shiro squirmed the rest of the way out of his shirt. “Take off your pants for me,” Keith ordered, knowing he didn’t have a hope of untying the thread-like drawstring himself. 

Shiro moaned and shivered as Keith rubbed his nipples each in turn, but he managed to kick his pants and boxers off despite being pinned under Keith’s relentless finger. Now he lay completely naked and defenseless, gazing up at Keith in anticipation. 

Shiro’s cock stood vertical, thick and gorgeous even in miniature. Keith nudged the head of it softly, making Shiro gasp and curl his body protectively. But he couldn’t escape from Keith’s touch, as Keith easily forced him flat on his back again, leaving his dick vulnerable and exposed. 

Keith ran the tip of his finger up and down the shaft, making it bob back and forth as he touched it from different angles. Shiro panted, straining against Keith’s hold on him, until he couldn’t help but shove helplessly at Keith’s finger, begging, “Stop, stop, baby it’s too much!” 

“Did I hurt you?” Keith quickly pulled away, letting Shiro roll onto his side and catch his breath. 

Shiro soon rose shakily to his feet, assuring Keith, “No no, you’re good. The texture of your fingers is just really intense.” He laughed softly, almost reverently, as he gazed up at Keith. He held his own dick, stroking it once or twice as if to smooth out the feeling of Keith’s rough exploration. 

“You want something softer?” Keith murmured. When Shiro nodded nervously, Keith reached down and scooped him up like a doll, cradling his little form in his palm with legs dangling over the side and arms clutching at fingers in a wild attempt to keep steady. So far Keith had respected Shiro’s autonomy, helping him up and down with a flat palm. It was a strange sensation to hold Shiro like this, like an object, almost limp in his hand. So easy to turn him this way and that, putting every part of his body on display. 

Keith curled his hand around Shiro, making a loose cage of his fingers. He allowed enough room for comfort, but held rigid enough that Shiro could neither escape nor slip through accidentally. Shiro’s heart thudded against Keith’s fingertip, his ribs expanding and contracting against his bonds as he breathed. He looked afraid, and Keith almost put him down again, but finally Shiro leaned to press a kiss to the knuckle nearest his face and gave Keith a trusting smile. 

As Keith raised Shiro to his mouth, tiny feet kicked out reflexively to brace against his lips. Keith easily brushed them aside by turning his head, nuzzling his way between Shiro’s legs. For a moment he held there, each hot breath on Shiro’s groin making his little legs spasm against Keith’s face. Then, only when Shiro whispered, “Please…” did Keith stick his tongue out, prodding forward until he could feel the firm nub of Shiro’s cock against its tip. 

Shiro whined and writhed, overwhelmed by the warm, slick expanse enveloping him from the wisps of hair under his belly button all the way to his puckered hole. The sounds he made soon had Keith reaching for his own dick, stroking it with one hand as he cradled Shiro with the other. Even in the haze of his own pleasure, he reminded himself to stay in control, to keep his grip gentle, to keep his tongue soft. Shiro trusted him, and Keith would have done anything to honor that trust. 

Keith licked again and again, keeping a steady pressure and rhythm, and enjoyed the way Shiro grew more frantic with each touch. Arching and twisting against Keith’s palm, tugging weakly at Keith’s fingers, his tiny nails rasping against the wrinkles of Keith’s knuckles. His whimpering intensified to groaning, then screaming as Keith’s tongue moved tirelessly, never allowing a respite from the waves of sensation. Finally, just as Keith’s hips jerked and he spilled hot and sticky over his own hand, Shiro’s screaming choked down to a sob and Keith tasted a faint splash of sweet come. 

Even though his own dick was spent and Shiro’s was softening in his mouth, Keith couldn’t seem to stop licking and sucking, drunk on Shiro’s helpless cries. He rolled his tongue through every crease, lapping up the traces of semen before finally releasing his willing prisoner. He cupped Shiro in both hands, stroking his silky hair with the pad of one thumb and watching his little body curl and tremble in the aftershocks of pleasure. 

Once Shiro seemed to be resting comfortably, his eyes blinking sleepily up at the face hovering above him, Keith nestled him back into his shrunken sleeping bag and made sure he was warm and cozy. Keith slipped back inside his own bag, eager to escape the cold, only to find the inside smeared with his come. Oh, well. A small price to pay for a terrific orgasm. 

“Feel better?” Keith asked as he settled in to sleep.

“Mm-hm,” Shiro answered, already dozing off. “This vacation might not be ruined, after all.”


End file.
